


Power Over Me

by runningthroughlightning



Series: A Quiet SOS At Night [2]
Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: 5am, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, In which 'Sam loves all his runners equally' can kiss my ass, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Medical Inaccuracies, Mind Control, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Seizures, Suicidal Thoughts, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25900243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runningthroughlightning/pseuds/runningthroughlightning
Summary: “Minister,” Sam heard Veronica pipe up, “Which design is this?  I don’t remember it from any of the documents you gave me.”“Oh, I didn’t give you all of the research, Veronica.  Only what mattered to you.  This was sort of a side project.  Cynthia’s brainchild, really.  I didn’t want to distract you with it.”“And… and what does it do?”Sigrid moved to what looked like a control panel, punching in numbers they couldn’t see.  “Well, if all of Moonchild’s research adds up, this should put her consciousness on top.  Permanently.”________((Sigrid tries to bring Moonchild back when she catches Five betraying the Ministry.  The treatment has some... unexpected consequences.))
Relationships: Runner Five & Sam Yao, Runner Five/Sam Yao
Series: A Quiet SOS At Night [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1879606
Comments: 9
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In S6M36, Sigrid tries to bring Moonchild back, to permanently take over control of Five's body. I wondered why she didn't do it sooner...  
> This is a canon-divergent fic, in which Sigrid tries to bring Moonchild back while Five is a prisoner caught betraying the Minister. The treatment has some... unexpected consequences.
> 
> (I apologize in advance - this is unbeta'd, so not only will there be mistakes, but I'm also from the USA so the mistakes will be inherently American.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IF YOU HAVEN'T READ PART 1, PLEASE DO THAT FIRST!
> 
> THIS ALL BEGINS AT S5M13. SIGRID HAS TAKEN OVER ABEL AND IS TRYING TO ACCESS THE SECRET LABS UNDER ABEL. THE GANG IS HIDING IN NOAH BASE, LOOKING FOR A WAY TO TAKE IT BACK.

If you had asked Sam years ago while he was sitting at his University’s library struggling to be an engineer what the biggest problem in a zombie apocalypse would be, his first guess wouldn’t have been a xenophobic megalomaniac posing as the British Prime Minister looking to steal his baby and destroy his friends. But, well, the apocalypse was nothing if not exciting.

The apocalypse forced you to adapt to a new normal pretty fast. For example, you think you’d never eat squirrel, but then you found yourself excited for Tuesday night Squirrel Stew because Maeve cooks the meat just right. Or you think you’d never live in a nuclear bunker 50 meters underground, and all of a sudden you find yourself in the mission control room, surrounded by dusty artifacts from the 70s, complaining that Amelia was hogging the shower.

“ _Fifteen minutes_. Fifteen minutes, Amelia! I didn’t even take that long of showers _before_ the apocalypse.”

Amelia was dabbing her face with some kind of mint-scented cream, her hair pulled up in a towel. “I don’t see what the issue is. You no longer share the bath with 20 other grungy runners, and the water supply is unlimited. Why can’t you wait your turn?”

“Because the hot water runs out! And you _know_ that!”

Noah Base was certainly not the best home. It would never measure up to Abel, and he missed all his friends dearly, but Noah had its benefits: a workable kitchen and washroom, undetectable to Sigrid’s men, and (for a very limited time each day) _hot water._

“Hot water is the payment I get for helping you all with your silly missions and not ratting you out to the Minister.”

“Ha! Like she’s not after _you_ as well!”

“ _Please,_ you two? It’s Sarah’s nap time,” Maxine pleaded.

“Oh, shall we put on some Duran Duran? That always calms her down!” he said, just as Amelia gagged and cried, “Oh for the love of – not _more_ of that band!”

Sarah started whining in response, and Maxine opened her mouth, probably to say something nasty to the both of them, when Five emerged from the hallway, freshly showered as well.

“Here, Maxine. I can take her.”

Five was wearing a loose sleeping shirt and shorts. Her hair was still dripping, tickling her shoulders, gooseflesh up and down her damp arms. It was clear _she_ didn’t get the luxury of a hot shower, but she didn’t seem bothered. Her face was soft as reached out to cradle Sarah. 

Sam tried not to smile too obviously.

Five was getting better with the baby, especially in the last few weeks since they moved into Noah Base. Not to be misunderstood – Five wasn’t bad with kids. She was a bloody natural. Sam still remembered the first few months Five was at Abel, when Jamie’s 5 year old Thomas fell and broke his arm. Five had been so gentle with him, carried him to Maxine, and then gave him a piggyback the rest of the day to brighten his spirits.

Five was just… a little reserved now. “Scared of herself,” as Maxine had aptly described it. She got confused sometimes, caught in a flashback or talking to Moonchild, and she’d always panic coming out of it – afraid she’d hurt someone during it. But Sam had never seen her raise a finger to Sarah, even when talking to Moonchild, and he felt confident she never would.

“Have a good run, Five?” he asked.

She nodded, bouncing Sarah in her arms a little. “Found another pacifier.”

“You mean a dummy?”

“No, a pacifier. We already have a dummy at Noah,” Five said smugly, looking at him.

“Ouch, what a burn,” he grinned back at her.

From beside him, Amelia groaned. “Oh, please? If you’re going to flirt like children, could you at least take it into one of the many side rooms?”

Sam’s face felt hot. “We’re not – “

“Darling! Soup’s ready!” Paula called from the kitchen, and she peeked her head around the door. “Oh, and you all, I suppose,” she teased.

“I’ll get Peter and Tom,” Maxine said.

“Oh, you might want to leave Tom alone today,” Amelia said off-handedly, combing through her hair as she moved to grab a bowl. “Janine said he’s having a bit of a ‘trauma’ moment again.”

“Could you _please_ not call it that?”

“Oh, should I be more sensitive? Like when Five is having a full-on conversation with Moonchild and you say she’s just ‘a little tired’?”

“Amelia!”

Five put her hand on Sam’s arm. “Sam, it’s fine. Can you get me a bowl? I don’t want to move Sarah.”

He huffed, but took it in stride. This was how it was lately; one big discordant family all packed into an underground bunker. 

It was easy to get on each other’s nerves in these close quarters. Amelia had bottles of ointment laying everywhere and Maxine liked to study her medical files on his desk and Five was always just like… _distractingly_ close all the time. 

With such little room, sometimes it was impossible to _not_ to watch her as she stretched, or cooked meals with Paula, or slept, or—okay wait, he didn’t actually _watch_ her sleep, he wasn’t – it was just that they shared a room because the other available room had mold in it, and sometimes she would fall asleep before him, and sometimes he would just glance over for a second, just for reassurance, and she always slept with her hands tucked up next to her neck, and what, was he supposed to just _pretend_ that _wasn’t_ the most adorable thing he’d ever seen? 

Janine marched into the kitchen like she was on a mission. “I’ve got today’s transmission from Abel,” she announced.

He was glad for the interruption in his spiraling thoughts. “And? What’s the news, O Captain My Captain?”

“Did they say anything about Chicken Nugget?” Five asked hopefully.

Amelia scoffed. “Let’s start with the more important stuff, shall we? Where is my shipment of silk bedding?”

Janine looked to the heavens, as if asking God for patience. “Unfortunately, your silk bedding is on its way, unlike _our_ shipment of vegetables for next week. If you could use your pull once in a while to get us some _vitamins_ instead of just luxury goods, Amelia, that would be lovely.”

Amelia shrugged, and popped open a bag of crisps.

“Your dog is just fine, Five. Apparently, Sigrid deemed him useful enough to hunt with, so he’s in the kennel with all the other Wakened World dogs.”

Five sagged. “He’s a shepherd dog, not a bloodhound. He’ll never fit in.”

“The rest of Abel townspeople are fine, if not a little hungry from the rationing, but Sigrid is getting more and more fascist with every passing day. According to these reports, I swear she’ll be using the lowest ranks for zombie fodder soon. Speaking of, Five, I’ve got a strategy I’d like to test out tomorrow.”

Five looked unbothered, but Sam groaned. “Janine! You said Five was on a break tomorrow! She was going to teach me chess!” 

“Oh, is _that_ what they call it now?” Amelia said around a spoonful of soup.

“ _Amelia.”_

Both Maxine and Paula were grinning now, but Five just cleared her throat and said, “It’s fine, Sam. I’ll teach you after the run. I should go to bed now.”

She gave a sleeping Sarah to Paula, and moved down the hall. Sam watched her go.

“But really, Sam. Time is ticking.”

Sam blinked, and turned to Amelia, who was somehow looking both uninterested and inherently smug.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying… maybe I should take one of the beds out of your room. Maybe that would kick start it.”

Sam felt his face get even redder. “I don’t—I’m sure I have no idea what you’re—Five and I are—” he blustered.

To his utter dismay, Janine piped up. “In a stunning turn of events, I agree with Amelia on this one. I know it never feels like the right time, Sam, but—”

He stood up, trying to look offended. “I don’t know what you all are talking about. But I am going to my room.”

He threw his spoon in the sink, trying to look justified. 

“Going to which room again? The one with Five in it? Sitting one meter away?” Maxine called behind him.

“ENOUGH!”


	2. Chapter 2

(S5M14)

((Five gets sent on a mission to sneak into Abel, add an extra lock on the underground labs, and sneak out with Dr. Lobatse. She doesn't even make it out of the delivery truck before she's caught.))

Sam felt like an absolute idiot letting Five get taken again. It didn’t help that Janine seemed just as stunned as he was that she’d been caught. But he had to keep reminding himself – this wasn’t like the Moonchild incident. Five wasn’t out of control anymore, she was just behind enemy lines. Admittedly, it helped to have Steve sneaking them updates in the form of short coded messages, like:

“Sigrid let her out after five days. Looks okay. Could be worse. Have her eyes always twitched like that?”

And:

“Sigrid’s taken her on as a right-hand man. I don’t know _how._ She’s the worst liar I’ve ever seen.” (“ _That’s true,_ Maxine had said, _she once tried to tell me she wasn’t injured while a knife was literally sticking out of her arm_.”)

The messages got shorter as the days went on:

“Sigrid bought the bait with Owen running away. Worried about Golightly, though.”

Then:

“Golightly shot Owen. He’s dead.”

And finally:

“Door is secure. But Sigrid caught her.”

“What does that mean? Does he mean Five? Did Sigrid catch Five? Is Sigrid going to shoot her?”

Janine set her jaw. “It means Five completed her mission; Sigrid can no longer access the labs. Now, we need to pull her out.”

\---

Brainstorming happened fast: Veronica had put Five to sleep. Nadia had suspicions Sigrid would wake her up and use her in Veronica’s immunity trials. They’d send her into the terrible rat maze Ian had set up and try to get her bit. So, they’d sneak Five a headset with a cam. They’d find a gap in the fences of the maze and Five would make a break for it. It was perfect. It was fine. He’d get to see Five soon, and they’d play that stupid chess game, and maybe their faces would get really close during the game, and maybe she’d say ‘checkmate’ in her quiet raspy voice, and maybe he’d lean in, and—

Sam was all hyped up when the headset connected. It buzzed to life, and on the ruddy old Noah Base computer screen, Nadia’s face popped up. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Nadia!”

Nadia wasn’t smiling. “Sam, we have a problem. Sigrid hasn’t asked me to take Five to the maze.”

“What? Where is she going then?”

“I brought her to a different room in the labs. A room Veronica says she hadn’t heard about.”

“Well, can we see her? Where is she now?”

“She’s with Sigrid. Here – I’ll hide this cam in my hijab. Hopefully at some point I can transfer it to Five.”

The camera blurred about as she arranged it. In the flashes in between he saw Veronica behind Nadia. They whispered to each other in concerned tones, and then Veronica was pushing Nadia’s wheelchair into the labs.

Janine had set up beside Sam, her paperwork laid out on his desk in neat order, though none of it meant anything to Sam. He thought he saw a map of Abel, but it was so different than the layout he knew. How much had Abel changed since they were gone?

Janine leaned into the mic, saying, “Remember, Ms. Al Hanaki. Our plan depends on Five getting into that maze. Do whatever you can to make that possible.”

He saw the camera tilt in affirmation, then the two of them were entering a room. It was the most high-tech room Sam had ever seen, post-Z day, with a bunch of complicated looking machinery, brightly lit. Sigrid stood at a work table, looking proper as always, in a suit that looked both diplomatic and evil. Ian Golightly stood beside her, rubbing his hands together like some kind of wicked henchman. Man, Sam hated that guy.

Five was in the center of the room. She sat, handcuffed to an upright chair, looking badass as always, like she had just spit out a tooth and said “I’ll never tell you anything.” (Hopefully not, though, Five never spoke when she was on missions, and he liked Five’s smile the way it was.)

Her hair had been buzzed down, now just as short as Sam’s. He wanted to be offended—how _dare_ Sigrid cut Five’s hair—but, well… it kind of looked good. If you threw in some hair gel, some sunglasses on her, on one of those days where she only wore a sports bra and spandex shorts…

“Sam, are you alright? You look a little distracted.”

Sam jumped, then cleared his throat. “Yes! No, I’m fine, Janine! Escape mission underway. Five in grave danger. Let me—uhh, let me just adjust the mics.”

He upped the volume so they could hear Sigrid speaking. “Ah, Runner Five. When I flew in this morning, I was so happy that you’d share my day of glory with me. I trusted you. You knew my secrets. You were going to share in the glory when I finally gained access to that underground laboratory. And now, for reasons of your own, working to further some conniving idea, you have ruined my plans. You have destroyed months of work.”

"She's so dramatic," Sam couldn't help but mutter.

Sigrid sniffed haughtily, turning toward a screen. “Oh, but it’s not too much of a loss I suppose. I wasn’t going to keep you in charge for long anyway.”

“In charge? Minister?” Veronica asked.

Sigrid started flipping switches. “Five’s body is immaculate, thanks to Ernest’s work. But a great vessel must be guided by a great mind. Isn’t that right, Moonchild?”

From the speakers of the large computer at Sigrid’s fingertips, a series of sounds started playing.

“What – what’s she doing? Those are Moonchild’s tones.”

“I’m sorry it took me this long to set it up, Cynthia. Your work was thorough, but the process required many components.”

Through Nadia’s cam, Sam could see Sigrid pull out a strange looking device. Like a crown, with cords running through it, and electrodes attached to it. It looked terrifyingly like ones used in electroshock therapy or executions.

“What process, Minister? Are we going to fry Five’s brain?” Ian asked, hands clutched together. Sam had a desire to throttle him.

“Not if this process goes well, Mr. Golightly.” 

She moved to set it on Five’s head, but Five wasn’t having it. She bucked wildly, and Sigrid struggled to pin her down.

“Oh, for the love of—Fine.” From her waistband, Sigrid pulled out a pistol and aimed it directly at Nadia.

“Stop moving or I shoot Miss Al Hanaki.”

Five froze.

“Good.” 

It looked like it killed Five to hold still, but she let Sigrid attach the electrodes, and hook them up. 

“Minister,” Sam heard Veronica pipe up, “Which design is this? I don’t remember it from any of the documents you gave me.”

“Oh, I didn’t give you _all_ of the research, Veronica. Only what mattered to you. This was sort of a side project. Cynthia’s brainchild, really. I didn’t want to distract you with it.”

“And… and what does it do?”

Sigrid moved to what looked like a control panel, punching in numbers they couldn’t see. “Well, if all of Moonchild’s research adds up, this should put her consciousness on top. _Permanently_.”

Sam inhaled. “Wait—what!?”

“Now, flip this on and…”

He heard the helmet charge, a whine that built and built, and then – a crackle. Five’s body locked up. Through gritted teeth, a scream escaped her.

“Is she—is she _electrocuting_ her? Five? Five!”

The charge vamped up. Her screaming got louder, bifurcated as her scarred vocal cords ached. It made it sound like two people were screaming at once.

“Janine! We have to do something! Janine-“

Janine looked speechless as well.

“Now, we’ll begin tones 2 through 6 and…”

Those damned eerie tones filled the air, echoing louder than he remembered. Five’s eyes rolled back in her head. She didn’t look like she was breathing.

“Janine, we have to _do_ something – Nadia, can you—”

To his relief, the helmet shut off. Five’s body dropped like a puppet with cut strings, her chest heaving. With her chin on her chest, Sam couldn’t see her face.

“Well, Cynthia?” Sigrid asked in the silence. “…Have we done it?”

Five’s head rose. The camera angle was wrong, he couldn’t see her eyes. There was a breath.

The voice that came out of Five was soft and sweet.

“Oh, Sigrid…”

Five’s body took a deep breath.

“We’re buddies now, me and Five. And you’re messing with our chi.”

And she spit on Sigrid’s shoes.

Sigrid roared, turned to the controls, and started up the charge again. “No!! It had to have worked! Her research was all right here! Why wouldn’t it work?!”

Five was screaming again, louder and louder. 

Sam gripped his mic, “Nadia, she’s going to kill her! You’ve got to do something! Now that Moonchild didn’t rise to the top, she’s going to keep pressing until—"

“Minister!” he heard from Veronica, “I’m sorry it didn’t work out – but… may I at least use her for my research? So at least something good can come of this?”

Sigrid looked at Five, who was beginning to lose her voice, veins popping out of her face. She looked unhappy, but blew out a hot breath. 

“Fine,” she said, and switched the machine off. Sam gasped in relief.

“You’re very right, Veronica. We can’t let one failure get in the way of other opportunities on the path to success. Do whatever you need to try out that new immunity trial, and we’ll send her in the maze.”

She looked down her nose at Five, who was bent at the waist and struggling to take in air, still viciously tied to the chair. 

“It either works and we have a cure, or it doesn’t and Runner Five is finally gone. Either way, it is a win.”

And with that, she was gone.

Nadia rushed forward with Veronica, hurrying to untie Five. 

“Five? Five?” Sam called along with them.

“She can’t hear you, Sam. Nadia’s still wearing the headset.”

“Nadia, could you put me on, please?” he begged.

Five’s eyes were dark, hooded, her brows pinched like her head still hurt. She winced when Nadia spoke.

“Five, can you hear us?”

She nodded.

“Is Moonchild…she’s not…’on top’, right?”

Five shook her head.

“Nadia, _come on_ –“

“I’m goin’, I’m goin’”

There was some shuffling, the camera blurred and tossed around. 

Finally, he could see from the perspective of Five. With the mic set up, he could hear her raspy breaths. It was the most comforting sound in the world.

“Five, can you hear me?”

A nod.

He knew Janine would tease him for it, but he felt a little weepy.

“Alright, then. Let’s get you home.”

\---

(S5M22)

((Five is sent into the arena and is bit by Ian's zombies. Sam thinks she has turned, but it turns out Veronica had set up the whole farce, and the zombie was non-viral. Five barely escapes alive, though Amelia's smuggler's chute.)

When the elevator shaft opened, Sam had never hugged a person harder.

“God,” he said into her dusty hair, “God, I thought I had lost you.”

Five hadn’t spoken then, maybe she couldn’t. She tapped onto his back _I’m fine. Just tired_.

Sam laughed tearily. “You’re telling me! God, you really looked like a zombie, Five – how did you manage – I’ve never seen you lie that well in my life! I mean—”

 _Sam,_ she interrupted. _Tired. Going to bed._

“Right. Right, okay.”

So he let her go.

He found Maxine in the kitchen to tell her the good news. “She’s alive, Maxine! We all thought she had died _twice!_ In the span of two hours! But she’s fine! God, she’s amazing.”

Maxine’s brow lowered. “And where is she now? I’m sure I need to treat her.”

“Oh, she’s in bed. Don’t worry though, she says she’s fine.”

Maxine’s face dropped even more. “Just like last time, huh?”

“What?” he asked. “What do you mean, ‘just like last time’?”

Maxine paused, like making a tremendous decision. She shook her head. “We’re going to get Abel back,” she said quietly. “And then things will get better.”


	3. Chapter 3

They did get Abel back (though it hurt like hell), but like everything in this new world, things did not ‘get better’.

Moving back to Abel after the Minister had changed it was disorienting. Buildings had changed places, schedules were a mess, people were caught between Janine’s directions and Sigrid’s leftover orders.

Five seemed most disoriented of all.

She had been so determined to get Abel back, but now after runs, people often caught her wandering around like she had never been there before.

At first people teased her: She accidentally took a cow to the schoolhouse, instead of the old barn. _Ha ha._ These things happened; it was funny. 

Later on, she asked Jamie which bunk was Archie’s. Not so funny that time.

“It almost reminds me of Tom,” Jody had admitted to him one day, on their way to swap shop to barter for some coffee beans. “Too many wires crossed.”

“Well, at least Tom opens up to you about it,” Sam said, trying not to sound juvenile. “Now, wasn’t the swap shop to the left of the bakery?”

Jody’s response was cut off by the sound of a commotion ahead of them, near one of the greenhouses. They looked at each other, then followed the growing crowd. A man was shouting at someone, and Sam recognized the voice as Trevor Lemen, who had joined Abel while Sigrid was in charge. He worked in deliveries.

Among the crowd there were crates of apples spilled across the ground. Five stood in the middle of them, looking confused.

Trevor's face was beet red. “I said to move over, ya bloody idiot! Didja not hear me?”

Five’s hair was down, a towel in her hand like she was on her way to the showers. “What?” Five said, her voice watery. She looked very lost. “Huh?” 

Trevor sneered, “ _What? Huh?_ That’s all you ever say. I _said_ ‘move over’”. 

“Alright, what happened here?” Old Luke said diplomatically.

“We have to get these crates to the kitchen by noon, and she just walked in front of the forklift! I almost ran her over! Now she’s just lookin’ at me like I’m a ghost!”

He reached toward her, and her dark eyes flashed hard. “Don’t touch me!”

“Trevor, leave her alone.” 

“No!” She’s been doing this for the past two weeks, wandering into weird places and getting in peoples’ ways. How is _she_ our head runner?” he shouted, and moved toward her again.

She looked scared now. Sam almost never saw her look scared. “Michael, please! No!”

“Who the hell is Michael?”

“Five—"

“Trevor, just—”

Trevor's hand landed on Five’s shoulder, and in one fluid motion, she flipped him over her body, and snapped his arm. 

Suddenly everyone was on top of them, breaking it up. Trevor was screaming like a banshee. Sam grabbed Five, dragged her away from the commotion. She fought him, but only just. With Jody’s help, they yanked her into an empty greenhouse, shoving her up against the toolshed.

Sam grabbed her hands and tried to get her attention. “Five, look at me. Where are you right now?”

Her eyes were looking through him, twitching back and forth. “Sarah, you showed me that.”

“Five, it’s me. Sam. Sarah’s not here.”

She started humming, pulling in on herself. 

“Five! Do you know what’s going on?”

She nodded. “I hurt Trevor. Oh my God. Oh my God I hurt Trevor. Trevor, I’m so sorry – I didn’t. Oh, no no no—” She was hyperventilating now. Her head was twitching madly.

Jody was behind him. “What should I do, Sam? Should I get Maxine?”

Sam shook his head. What could Maxine do? She couldn’t give her a sedative; it would only make Moonchild worse. 

Then, just as he was about to tell her to take deep breaths with him, she jerked. Her eyes looked up and to the right. In a complete 180, she stood up and took a deep breath. She cracked her neck, rolled her shoulders a little. Calm as can be, she said, “I’m going drink some ginseng tea and go to bed.” And she walked off.

Sam sat there, completely stunned, for the next 60 seconds.

Beside him, Jody looked both confused and enraged. “What in the name of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph was that?”

His breath rushed out of him in one swoop. He put his face in his hands. “That… was Moonchild.”

“Well, then who is Michael?!”

It took a monumental effort to stand back up again. When he did, he could only scrub at his face. God, when did he get so tired?

“Michael was her old boyfriend. He… he’s not important now.”

Jody wasn’t happy with that response, but followed him back into the crowd. “ _Clearly,_ he is.”

“Look, can we just hurry up and get that coffee? I have an extra shift at the comms desk tonight.”

“Where are you two going?” called Luke from the dying crowd.

“To the swap shop.”

“Oh, that’s the other direction. Other side of town, now.” And Sam tried not to feel like his soul was leaving his body. 

“…Of course it is.”

...

The Trevor incident should’ve been the first red flag that something was wrong. But things were busy, Sigrid was on their tail, and he didn’t have time. He didn’t have time to think about how Five had stopped talking to her runners. Or how Janine side-eyed him when she had to repeat a plan three, sometimes four times. Or the tears in Cameo’s eyes when she told him Five had stopped taking care of Chicken Nugget. 

She spent a lot of time with Tom and Peter, at least. Apparently, there were some shared experiences there. “All of us going crazy in our own way,” Peter had joked.

Five didn’t stop going on missions. She couldn’t; she was the best runner they had, and Sigrid wasn’t stopping just because she had lost Abel.

But after one nasty run, in which Five limped home with a hole in her shoulder and a busted ankle after falling from a fire escape, Maxine put Five on suicide watch. 

Sam’s jaw had dropped when he heard.

“What are trying to say, Maxine?” he demanded, marching into the hospital where Maxine was organizing meds. “Are you saying she _tried_ to have a horde of zombies surprise the convoy? Like she _tried_ to get shot? That’s just being a runner, Maxie!”

Maxine looked uncharacteristically serious. “I know her life is dangerous, Sam, and that certain things just can’t be avoided. But I’m talking about at home, at Abel. People have been… noticing. She climbs tall buildings an awful lot.”

Sam sputtered. “That’s Moonchild! _Moonchild_ does those things, not Five! I mean, she would _tell_ us if something was _seriously_ —”

He trailed off, the levity of it hitting him in the gut. Oh, god. She _wouldn’t_ tell him. She barely spoke anyway, and if Moonchild was telling Five to jump, to climb to the tallest height and join her in the afterlife… Five wouldn’t tell anyone. She’d ignore it; the mission for a cure was more important.

He sat heavy on the chest of bandages beside Maxine. 

“Moonchild’s trying to kill Five,” he whispered. “I don’t understand. She was doing so well at Noah. I thought things were getting _better_. I thought she was healing.”

Maxine looked like she wanted to say something, then thought better of it. “Regardless of what Moonchild is doing, Five isn’t being healthy with her trauma. You know how she gets on runs. She shuts her emotions down. That’s a helpful tool for soldiers. Compartmentalizing.

Sam nodded miserably. “I always called it _Badass Five_.”

“But she needs to turn that off once she’s safe again, and she’s not doing that. Jean Brodeur can tell you more about it. He’s a therapist in New Canton. Maybe you can convince her to go to him.”

Sam shook his head. “She’d never go. All she does is ignore it.”

“Well, then you’d better change her mind. Because these things can only fester, Sam. And Five’s been festering for a while.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE comment! It makes my day!


	4. Chapter 4

Sam was woken up at around 3 am, with Jody by his side.

“She’s calling for you,” she said. “It’s bad.”

He toppled out of bed like a drunkard, limbs everywhere, and tried not to panic “Oh god. Okay, okay I’m up. How long’s it been?”

“Justin found her about 15 minutes ago.”

“Is she speaking?”

“Barely.”

“In her bed?”

“No. The roof.”

 _Aw fuck._ Sam thought. So it was _really_ bad.

Five had started a habit of wandering Abel at night. Sometimes it was sleepwalking; sometimes not. It wouldn’t be so big of an issue, except she panicked sometimes, when she woke up from the dream. They figured out early on that Sam was the only one who could calm her. 

He scrambled for his shoes and glasses, wondering blurrily at which point this had become a norm.

They didn’t say anything else to each other, just the sound of their footsteps between them. It was eerily still that night, the air hung in place as if afraid to move. In the pitch sky, the moon was a pale scoop, barely enough to guide their way. They found Justin at the base of the north warehouse, standing like a wraith, arms wrapped around himself.

Sam could hear Five’s moaning before they reached him. “She up there?”

Justin nodded. “I heard her calling your name. I was afraid to go up, just in case…”

Sam scrubbed his face again, “Yeah, I know. Thanks for finding me. You guys can head to bed now, I’ve got this.”

They looked unsure, but Sam wasn’t waiting for a confirmation. He climbed the ladder to the roof of the warehouse, toward the sound of Five’s cries.

She was curled up in the furthest corner of the roof. She must have climbed up here, and then fallen into a fitful sleep. 

She was speaking, in the silence of the night, sounding scared, hurt, angry. Every so often, calling his name. 

He’d never heard her like this except at during her nightmares. He knew she suffered from vocal cord paralysis. Her voice was never quite clear during the day, but without her awake to control it, her voice sounded much more scarred and broken. Other people in the township had complained to him recently, asked if anything could be done. He didn’t blame them; she sounded distinctly undead.

He cleared his throat, “Hey, Five. It’s me, again.”

Her hands were around her throat, scraping along the scars that covered it. Her hair covered the expression on her face.

“Five, you’re having a bad dream. It’s your buddy, Sam. You just need to wake up.”

It was like reading from a script at this point. Like a Shakespearean play that never got any happier.

“Five. Wake up, and look at me.”

On the third try, she jerked, and sat up. Her hair was a rat’s nest against her cheek. Her eyes were saucers of black ink. She was looking at him but didn’t seem to recognize him.

He held his hands out. “Five…”

A ragged inhale, and she was scrambling backwards, pushing up against the half meter railing that divided her and a four-story drop.

“Woah, woah. Five. It’s just me. It’s Sam. You know me.”

Her head jerked to the side three times, like a robot on the fritz. “Don’t touch me.”

He had got her talking; that was always the hardest step. He fell into an easy crouch, hands out, palms up.

“I’m not going to touch you. I’m just gonna be right here.”

She breathed like it hurt her. A gravelly in and out, with a whine on the exhale. 

“It’s a bomb,” she whispered to herself. “The bomb is coming.”

This was how the nights went: her mind would skip around like a damaged music record, she’d whisper dangerous nonsense, terrified and threatened, and he’d pretend he could keep up:

“There’s no bomb.”

“It’s gonna kill them all.”

“It’s not going to kill anyone.”

“I never trusted him.”

“Trusted who, Five?”

She shifted, grinding her hands into the gravel beneath them. “Sarah, you can’t trust him. He killed Owen.”

Ah, Ian again. He was a common in Five’s nightmares.

“ _I_ never trusted him; I _knew_ we shouldn’t trust him.” She growled. “He hurt my friends.” On the last sentence, she bared her teeth like fangs.

Sam tried not to let the instinctual fear grab him. This was Five, he reminded himself, who liked spring lilies and sharing her Cadbury Eggs. Not an enemy.

He moved in closer.

“He’s gone, Five. Ian is gone. And I’m safe. I’m right here.”

Her head ticced again, and she swallowed. 

“I don’t want this anymore. I want to give it back.” Her eyes danced to a point above his left shoulder. “Please let me give it back.”

Unbidden, he felt a hatred rise inside him. He knew who she was talking to. “Hey! Moonchild, if you can hear me I swear to God—”

It wasn’t the right thing to say.

Suddenly she was up on the coping of the roof, her feet mere centimeters from an empty blackness. 

“Woah, _woah_ , Five, wait—”

“Please, Moonchild.” Five’s voice was clear, awake. “He gave it to me, but I don’t want it!”

“Five, no—”

“It wouldn’t event matter!” she cried. “It doesn’t even matter whether I do it or not!”

“Five,” he shouted, “ _Listen to me!_ ”

Finally, _finally,_ she seemed to notice him there. She turned her face to him, looking confused, but also oddly hurt.

“I’m so tired, Sam.”

Thank God.When she said his name, he knew she was awake.

“I know, but this isn’t you. Moonchild’s talking to you right now—calling you to the other side, or –whatever. But you’re gonna be okay. Just, step—step down from that ledge…Come to my bunk, yeah? It’ll be like back at Noah. You don’t have to sleep alone.”

There was a millisecond of pause, where he watched with his heart in his throat, as she wavered. But then a breath was let out of her, and she sat down on the coping, her feet hanging over the edge. He tried to take it as a win, but the sadness in her eyes told him otherwise. 

“Sam, Moonchild isn’t… the same as she was before. The longer I spend with Moonchild, the more I think we understand each other. The more I think… we’re allies.”

Sam balked. “You’re joking, right? After all she’s done to you?”

“I know what it sounds like. But… I swear, she’s becoming kinder. In the last couple missions, Moonchild helped us. She guided us to her research.”

“Well, yeah but- but what about that time when you were looking for those files on Sigrid in that military base and it blew up?”

Five wouldn’t meet his eye. He felt the air get heavy all of a sudden. She shifted away from him.

“That wasn’t Moonchild. That was me.”

“You… what? Five, that building was burning up – you _knew_ you couldn’t make it.”

“Yeah, I knew.”

“So that’s why – that’s why Moonchild took over; she’s always putting you in danger, having you climb tall buildings, run away from the team.”

Five nodded quietly, “She does make me run. But never into danger. Always out of it.”

“But—but just now…”

She raised her head. Her eyes were black matte, deep like a chasm. He’d seen this expression before, when she’d leave on a run with two people, and only return with one. His mouth felt dry.

“Moonchild doesn’t want to die, Sam… _I_ do.”

The silence spread out black between them. Freezing. Vile.

“I _want_ to die, but I-“ she never finished. In that moment, there was a commotion behind them, and Peter was there, looking out of breath.

“Sam! God, where the _hell_ have you been?!”

“Peter, what is it?”

“I’ve been looking all over for you! Jenny needs you _now._ There’s kids in one of the neutral zones.”

“What?”

“Just got report of them. Apparently three little tots, in the middle of the neutral zone. Zombies heading in from the south.”

Sam scrambled to his feet, but Five was right behind him. 

“Woah – what do you think _you’re_ doing?” Sam said hotly.

He immediately felt bad. Five looked like she was about to cry. “Sam, they’re _kids_.”

“And? We can have someone else get them – I know it doesn’t seem like it sometimes, but there are more runners in Abel than just you and Jody.” He started moving away, but she grabbed his arm.

“Please,” she begged. “Let me do something good.”

No. He wanted to say no. He wanted to wrap her up in a massive quilt, and deposit her in his commshack with some non-caffeinated tea, and hide her from the world. But Five wanted to help people. That’s all she ever did.

“Fine. But you’re going with someone.”

“Runner 32 is already geared up,” said Peter. 

Sam looked at Five, trying to catch some kind of the sadness he had seen before. She rolled her shoulders out, and met his eyes with a flat stare. Just like that, she was Badass Five again. He was getting real sick of it. “Okay,” he said, a stone in his stomach. “Then let’s get going.”

**...**

The sun was rising by the time they reached the neutral zone. It was a clear day, the moisture rising off the pavement. The area looked to be a decrepit park, in a more rural section of town. He could only manage one camera, and from this angle, all he saw was a field of dead grass and a little concrete amphitheater.

“I don’t see the kids, guys. They might’ve hidden in one of the buildings nearby.”

“If they’re smart,” said Runner 32, who was still a little cranky from being shaken out of bed so early.

“Well, then let’s hope they’re smart,” said Sam. “Right, Five?”

He looked at Five’s cams, waiting for a report, but got nothing. He tried to pretend that didn’t hurt.

On the cam, the two runners jogged into view.

“Sam, we’re here and… I don’t know; this place looks empty.”

He toggled with his cams a little more. “Maybe call for them? I don’t know, Janine said—”

There was a crackle, and the sound of feedback of speakers that made him wince.

“Uh, that wasn’t me, was it?”

Five and 32 were near the amphitheater now. When he zoomed in on the stage, he swore he could see large black boxes on each side. They looked shiny and new, which didn’t make any sense, considering the concrete around them was overgrown with ivy. He tried to zoom in closer. 

There was a squeal, a ring of feedback, and then a voice.

“Greetings, Runner Five. Runner Thirty-two. Sam.”

Sam gritted his teeth. “Sigrid.”

“It’s been so long, Five. You look so much different now that you’re no longer a zombie.”

Sam tried to find another good visual but coming up with nothing. From what he could tell, the area around them looked full of zombies and nothing else.

“Guys, I don’t think Sigrid’s there. I think she’s hacked her way into those speakers somehow.”

Runner 32 groaned, “But that means…”

“The kids aren't here either. They never were. It’s a trap.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine the song 'Dream Is Collapsing' by Hans Zimmer to be playing during this whole chapter lol.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OzLhXesNkCI
> 
> Have fun!

Janine stormed into the comms shack, looking spitting mad. “How the _hell_ did she manage this? It’s a _neutral zone_ , for God’s sake.”

“I don’t think she’s actually there, Janine. I think she’s just broadcasting.”

“Mr. Yao, that’s not _better._ Because if _she’s_ not going to them,” Janine demanded, “Then what did she send in her stead?”

“Uh, guys?” Runner 32 whined, “Can we, you know, get out of here?”

Sam flicked through all his known cams. Zombies coming in from the south, about a kilo away. Nothing else for miles.

Still, Sigrid sounded smug: “My informants have told me Five isn’t doing so well recently. That she’s been a little… out of commission.”

Sam felt like growling. “Ignore her, Five. Guys, just stay calm. Janine has sent runners to help you, but I can’t direct you away from the zombs until I’m _sure_ you won’t be running into some other trap Sigrid has set.”

Sigrid’s voice was echoey over the speaker system. “I don’t say this often, but it turns out I was wrong. That treatment I gave you after you betrayed me did work, Five. Just not in the way I originally thought.”

Janine indicated to Sam’s side screen. He could see Runners 11 through 19 would be there in twenty minutes. That wasn’t enough time.

“I may not be a scientist, but I know who to ally with. Van Ark was brilliant. So was Moonchild. It just took a master diplomat to put their research to _real_ use.”

The zombies were getting closer, he could hear them in the distance. Even more, another group was heading in from the west and north. If they didn’t move soon, they’d be sitting ducks.

Sigrid continued: “Moonchild used the tones with the sole focus on making people content and– oh, how did she say it? ‘In unity’ with one another? Ridiculous, really. Her obsession with happiness and unity restrained her reach.”

“ _Sam,”_ Runner 32 cried, _“_ Can’t we run through those buildings to the east?”

Sam was flicking through his screens madly, trying to find the threat Sigrid had planted.

“No! We don’t know what’s in them!” 

But then, a familiar noise.

Peter joined Sam’s side, gripping at the desk. “Is that madwoman going to try those tones again? She _knows_ they doesn’t work on Five!”

Tones did fill the air – but they were new sounding, this time – different. He felt Five stagger. 

Shit. They’d just have to risk it.

“Fine. Start moving towards that green roofed building. If there’s traps in there, we’ll just have to improvise.”

“I don’t understand!” Janine muttered behind him, “If she’s trying to have Cynthia take over again, why let zombies approach?”

In the corner of his eye, Sam saw Peter pale.

“Oh, no,” Peter said. “Sam.”

“Peter, I’m a little busy!” Sam snarled, desperately looking through his maps to plan a route of escape.

“Sam, no – Sam, this can’t happen. Five can’t die!”

“She’s not going to die – she’s going to be fine. They still have time.”

“Check the back alleys,” Janine was saying. 

“No, there’s too much debris that way.”

“—Sam, I’m serious!— ”

“We’ll send them to the roof, then.”

“— _Sam,_ goddammit!!—"

“The other runners have noise machines.”

“If they moved through the shopping center on the right, they maybe could—"

Peter seized Sam by the shoulders, and yanked him around. “Sam. You’re not listening to me.” His eyes were red.

“Five. Can’t. Die.”

On the cam, Sigrid was saying, “The tones can do so much more if you don’t focus on the subject’s emotions. It doesn’t matter how Five _feels,_ it matters what Five _does._ Now, if I hit these tones…”

“Peter,” Janine said slowly. “What do you mean Five can’t die.”

“First test,” Sigrid announced. “Runner Five, stop running.”

They had almost reached the door to the first store. Five’s cam had been blurry with the sprint. But in the next moment, Five’s camera paused. 32 was right in front of her, working on breaking open the lock. He turned to look at her, confusion on his face. 

Five had stopped running.

“Sit down.”

She sat. 

What the hell?

“No… no, no, _no!_ Not again!” Sam growled, tapping into Five’s speakers to shout, “You’ve been making Moonchild stronger, haven’t you!”

Sigrid laughed. “Oh, Mister Yao, Cynthia has been useless to me ever since she melded with Five. I had my suspicions before, but now I know for sure. Moonchild is too much of a pacifist. She somehow became even _more_ peaceful when she joined with Five. If I brought her to the front of the mind now, she’d betray me just as Five did.” 

“No, what I have now is much more powerful. Easier. More efficient.”

The zombies were almost upon them now, but they were struggling to get past the last park fence. Runner 32 was tugging at Five, but she wasn’t moving.

A single zombie broke through the fencing. It shuffled toward them.

32 pulled out his bat, ready to swing. 

Sigrid tsked. “No, no, 32. Don’t interfere with the last test.”

Five turned towards 32, and shoved him away. He stumbled backwards.

“Now, Five…” The zombie was upon Five, ugly and slobbering on her headcams.

“Let that zombie bite you.”

She held out her arm, and the zombie bit down.

Sam screamed, trying to call her name, as he watched it tear at her wrist, rotten teeth and sinew and blood.

“32!” Sam begged, “Stop her! Please!”

But all anyone could do was watch in horror as Five let the zombie sink in. It tore at her for three seconds. Then, she grabbed her gun, put a bullet through its skull, and shook the jaws off.

“Good, Five,” echoed Sigrid. “Now… heal it.”

And, like a dream or a mirage or a _nightmare_ , Sam watched Five look down at her arm and _heal it._ Like a horror film, Sam watched the skin warp, blister, and then seal up. Within thirty seconds, all that was left was dried blood and saliva.

“Mother of God.” He heard Peter breathe. “Even _I_ can’t do that.”

Sigrid sounded absolutely gleeful. “Ah, yes. Runner Five is finally complete: Powerful, controllable, and immortal. The perfect weapon.”

All the zombs had broken through the fence now, the crowd surging toward them. 

Sigrid didn’t seem phased.

“Her first mission? Deleting that stain of a township from England’s map.”

Five started reloading her gun.

“Five?” 32 whispered.

“Start with him.”

Five raised her gun, and shot him point blank. His body dropped heavy.

“Now, disconnect yourself from Abel township.”

Calmly, like putting out a cig after smoking it, Five took her mic and crushed it. Then she turned to the only camera Sam had in the field, twenty meters away, and in one smooth motion, she aimed.

The screen went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are gold to me!! Please, if you can leave one, do!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back again - by absolutely no one's demand besides myself. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy - but as a reminder, this is unbeta'd and also I'm not British, so who knows what I'm missing! Oh well!

In the next 24 hours, the Abel Alliance was up in flames. Sigrid had destroy all of their weak spots, the broken parts of the walls, the tunnels between them, the hideaways they shared. Anything that had been deemed inaccessible because of zombie hordes was now fair game. And Five was at the head of every attack.

Sitting in her lab, reading over the data, Veronica could only look impressed. “She’s reproduced what Moonchild had, but instead of inserting a second mind into the subject, she’s just completely suppressed the original mind.”

Janine, Tom, Peter, and Sam had gathered in Veronica’s labs, the recent news spread out before them. None of them had slept since Five had been taken, and it was showing.

Sam had never seen Janine look more frustrated. “Could you elaborate any more than that, Ms. McShell?”

Veronica thought for a moment. “Well, you know how when Moonchild was active, you could almost _see_ Five listening to her voice?”

“Her eyes would get all twitchy, yeah we know it,” Peter said impatiently.

“Sometimes Five would even respond,” said Sam.

“But it’s not a conversation anymore, is it? It’s a demand.”

Veronica paged through the documents beneath her almost excitedly. “And not even that! Now, with Van Ark’s treatment, Sigrid has the power to control every _aspect_ of their being, from their feeling of hunger to their conscious thoughts.”

Sam’s voice felt quiet among the group, “So, Five’s just… gone?”

The group ignored him.

“That zombie bite she took…” Janine said. “Peter, did you know she could do that?”

“No!” Peter looked affronted. “I knew she couldn’t be infected, and that she couldn’t—I don’t know— _bleed out,_ but I didn’t know she could _manipulate_ her body like that!”

“She couldn’t,” said Veronica, “Not without Sigrid’s control. Van Ark’s serum gave her super healing, but Sigrid can use it now to do the impossible. She could probably grow a second heart if she wanted to!”

Tom growled. “And now she’s got an entire army of people made just like Five now—powerful, fast-healing, immune, and completely under her control. All of her Wakened Land soldiers got the treatment. Now, they’re marching up to Abel to finish us off.”

Janine frowned. “She intends to do a glorious invasion. Visible to every township around.” She turned to Veronica. “Can you do _anything_ to help? Maybe a tone that will disrupt the control for a moment?”

Veronica flipped through the files, her brow pinched. “I’ll certainly try, but remember – Sigrid didn’t share this with me. It’s all so new.”

Outside, klaxons started ringing. The comms crackled, and Runner 17 called, out of breath: “They’re here, Janine. The whole army. Sigrid’s out in front.”

“Oh, perfect!” Peter cried. “We still have snipers, right? Someone take out the Minister, easy as that.”

“We can’t,” said Veronica. “Unless you want to kill Five as well.”

Peter choked. “What?”

“Five and Sigrid are sharing brainwaves now. If you destroy Sigrid’s brain, it’ll destroy Five’s as well.”

The realization hit them all at once.

“That’s why Sigrid’s making such a show,” Tom muttered. “She doesn’t have to sneak in. She knows we won’t hurt her because we won’t hurt Five.”

Sam looked around at the group, whose eyes had all turned downward. “Well, we _won’t_ … right??”

Janine’s face was stone. Her silence was deafening. Sam opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, she started towards the front gate. “Someone bring me my rifle.”

“Janine what are you…”

“It’s for the good of the alliance, Sam. I won’t make you watch.”

Her statement had him scrambling out of the room, sprinting to catch up with her. 

“No… no, wait, Janine. Let me talk to her. If it’s like last time, with Moonchild, I think I can get her to break. Remember that? When she broke into Abel for the ZRD?” 

Janine moved pointedly towards the sniper’s nest. The area before them was loud and bustling, runners scrambling and shouting in preparation. The gates were slowly closing.

“Please, Janine. It helped to see and hear me, then. I think it helped her break away from Moonchild. Maybe it’ll help this time, too!”

It was clear Janine had made up her mind. “I’m sorry, Sam,” she was saying “You can’t possibly—”

In a moment of absolute stupidity, he snatched Janine’s rifle before she could say more, and charged toward the gate. 

“MR. YAO, GET BACK HERE, _NOW!”_

But he was already running, and no one dared chase after him. Into the comms, he shouted, “Veronica, find the tones that will shut it off—even for a second!”

He threw himself forward, the gates slamming heavily behind him, and ran. He made it about 20 meters, feet unsure among the high grass. When he finally realized what he was doing, he paused.

The air outside the walls was heavy, wet with late summer heat. He could hear snipers getting in position along the walls behind him. There were calls for him to get back inside. In the distance, beyond the clearing, the army. Emerging from the woods, 10 soldiers wide and 50 deep. With the sun shining behind them, the mass of soldiers looked like a mirage. He saw a single tank at the front, two people standing on it.

Five and Sigrid. Both straight backed, dressed in uniform, and armed to the teeth.

Five was looking at him. 

It felt like de ja vu, but this was worse, this was so much worse because before, he could hear Five struggling. He could feel her in between the tones, he could see her eyes twitch. He realized now that he _liked_ seeing her eyes look up and to the right, because it meant she was having a _conversation_ with Moonchild, that it was _two_ people in there. Now, though, there was no one. 

Sam didn’t have a plan. He wasn’t good at fighting, or shooting, or running. So, he did what he could. He took a deep breath and called to her.

“Five. Snap out of it. You’re stronger than this.” 

Five did not respond, but Sigrid shaded her eyes to squint at him. “Is that Sam Yao? My dear, have they run out of soldiers at Abel that quickly?”

He did his best to ignore her. “Five _, please_. I know it seems like everyone around you is dying, everything is falling apart. I _know_ it seems like the world is too much. But everyone at Abel is here for you. _I’m_ here for you.”

Sigrid guffawed. “It’s quite too late for that, Mr. Yao. Now, I’d advise you get out of the way. Unless by some miracle you’ve developed an actual _aim_ with that gun.”

Five looked so goddamn tired. In the breaths between the marching, he could see her eye his gun. An expression flickered across her face: hunger.

“Five, no…”

He felt tears in his eyes, didn’t have time to wipe them away. “Five, if you can hear me, I—I’m sorry. I failed you as a friend and—well, I should’ve told you how much you meant to me. I should’ve kept pushing when you turned me away. Among all the chaos, I should’ve told you that I was here for you, that you could talk to me.”

He feels his whole heart bursting out of him, his whole soul trying to connect with hers. 

“You’re stronger than this, Five. I know you don’t think you are. I know you’ve been hurt, taken advantage of, but you are so _amazing_ Five. You’re so much more than this! You’re—you’re Runner Five! You’re the kindest, coolest, sweetest person and I – God, I _love_ you.”

He could feel the tank shake the earth now, less than 20 meters away. He knew he looked ridiculous: a lone man, standing in between an army and a fortress, trying to call his friend back. 

He didn’t care. He could see it now, Five’s fears laid out before him. Her family, dead and gone, and one lonely leftover Five, weak from the voices in her head, with no one to come home to. “Five, I will love you until my dying day. And even after that, you will _still_ be loved.” 

“Just _please… come back to me.”_

It wasn’t working. Her eyes weren’t flickering like they should have been. They were looking straight at him. Completely and utterly dead.

Through his comms, Veronica called in. “Sam! I think I’ve found the right tones, but it’ll only release Sigrid’s control for a second.”

Sam felt like his heart was breaking. There was nothing else to do.

He swallowed, tried to breathe through his tears.

“Do it. At least it’ll give me a second to say goodbye.”

He’d have to shoot Five first. That way she wouldn’t suffer when he shot Sigrid.

Abel’s speakers vamped up, like a rising wave. Loud, echoing tones, reminding Sam of every time he failed Five, every time she struggled to keep her head above water, as they forced her on missions again and again and again. 

He could feel the air shift as Sigrid’s connection wavered, and raised his gun. 

In the crosshairs, Five’s dark eyes were watching him, unflinching.

Ironically, he wished he were a better shot.

Five blinked. She looked at Sam, _really looked at him,_ and he knew this was it. 

_I’m sorry,_ he whispered, and she could read his lips.

She looked like she forgave him. For a sad, watery second, she smiled. 

Then she turned and shot Sigrid in the head.

The tones cut out. Sigrid dropped, but so did Five. She was screaming, Sigrid’s cut connection burning through her, and clutching at her head. 

Sam didn’t know what to do – he panicked, jolting toward her, but what was he supposed to do? Veronica said this would ruin her mind, that their brains were too synced up. What did it feel like to have a phantom bullet tear through your mind?

He launched himself onto the tank. “FIVE!” he screamed. “FIVE I’M HERE! CAN YOU-“

“Wait, Sam!” he heard a voice in his comms. “Don’t touch her!”

He didn’t understand why; if he was seconds from death, he’d want to be in her arms, but he stepped away, and watched with his heart in his throat as her hands scraped over her scalp, writhing on the tank roof and screaming through the pain. She sounded like Peter did when he shut down Moonchild in London. She sounded like death.

Then, slowly, she rose. Her limbs were crooked, her spine arched like a puppet possessed. Her breaths were heavy and labored, but with great effort, she rose to her feet. The mind-controlled soldiers were behind her, standing at attention, completely focused on the tank. She turned to them.

She took a deep breath, and then she spoke. Her voice was nothing like he’d ever heard. It was doubled. Hers… but not hers. Raspy, but also sweet. _It’s_ _Moonchild_ , he realized. They were finally working as one. 

“Sigrid was never your friend. Sigrid was never right. She controls you no longer.” 

And Sam watched as every soldier, rows and rows of men, dropped their guns all at once.

Five exhaled, turned back to Sam. Standing at full height now, fists tensed at her sides, she looked ethereal, almost god-like. Sam found it hard to breathe. With the sun behind her, he swore he could see a golden halo. 

She smiled at him.

Then she dropped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please please comment if you like it! Let me know what you think!
> 
> You can find me at runnerable.tumblr.com


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the change in tags. Apologies for any medical inaccuracies.

Sam carried Five’s body home.

The silence in Abel was deafening. The whole town had been prepped for conflict, every able-bodied person armed and at the ready for a battle that they never received. When the roar of the opening gates ended, the awkward quiet was almost physical; people watching him from all sides, gripping their guns, pent up energy that had no place to go.

Sam carried Five to Janine, his arms shaking.

His throat felt tight. He tried to clear it. “She, um…”

Janine’s expression was unreadable. He chose to keep his eyes averted.

“…She needs help.”

There was a moment, empty of response, where Sam felt the attention like a shrinking room, pressing in, making it hard to breathe. But then Janine nodded. 

“Yes. Right. She’ll need medical help. Tom, can you—”

Sam tried not to look too feral when Tom came at him. “No! That’s—I can carry her.”

The whole town watched Sam go, and he knew he should be aware, red faced and embarrassed. They had all heard him, he _knew_ that, but he focused on Five now. It didn’t matter what Abel thought. He just had to make sure Five was…

It was surreal to lay her down on a cot so easily. Everything was so calm. Too calm. It was nothing like previous times, when the adrenaline made things fast and humid and bandages were thrown out and people were shouting and it was a race against time.

This time, it kind of felt like carrying a corpse.

Yes, Five was breathing, but…

Maxine finished looking her over sometime later. She tucked a blanket closely against her body, an IV fed in her arm. 

“So is she…?”

“Non-conscious motor responses are still present. Her pupils are responding, she’s breathing on her own… She’s alive, but there’s no way to know…” Maxine’s lips were a pencil line. Her hands fidgeted at her waist. “She’s just sleeping for now, but without a CT or MRI, there’s no way to know what kind of damage…”

She didn’t finish, but she didn’t have to.

Sam knew how tricky brains could be. He knew that now more than ever.

“But with Van Ark’s serum?” Sam’s voice cracked weakly, the hope as painful as the fear.

“Maybe,” Maxine said quietly. “We’ll just have to see.”

\---

It took three days. Five was still, empty, and then on the third day, almost like a light switch, her eyes were open. 

Sam knew immediately; he had been sitting beside her the whole time. He had lurched when he saw the change, a breath of words just at his lips, hope and joy ready to break free. Her pupils twitched at the air above her. He held his breath. After a moment, her breathing cut out. Her eyes rolled backward, and her body started shaking.

It all went downhill from there.

\---

Five wouldn’t wake up. 

She didn’t look at him, or cry out, or speak. She only shook. Maxine said some of them were seizures, some of them looked like random tics. Sam didn’t know what anyone else saw; to him, it looked like electrocution. 

At times her eyes would open, and they’d gaze off, empty and flat. Mostly, though, they stayed glued shut, encircled with black and blue bruising. This did not mean she was sleeping. God, Sam _wished_ she was asleep. Sleep meant healing. This… this was suffering.

The bullet that had split through Sigrid’s skull had sent repercussions through all the soldiers under her control: headaches and dizziness, some memory loss. Five was a different case. She had been directly under Sigrid’s immediate control – her brain was hit heaviest. 

Sam tried to compare it to circuitry. The connection which used to be a smooth closed circuit was now snipped, and the live wire that was disconnected in the shot was now sparking madly, sending unreadable haphazard signals, throwing Five's mind into static. Her brain couldn’t handle it.

So it seized. It went into overdrive, throwing signals to the body, overcompensating for the utter lack of input. Maxine said it was killing her.

It had been four days since the Minister’s failed attack. Janine told him things couldn’t be better. With Sigrid no longer there to pull the strings, her organization was falling apart. The news of her failed mind control, of her blatantly aggressive attack was finally sinking in. Her townships rearranged leadership to cover her absence; détentes were developing. Politically, it was the best scenario they could have hoped for.

Sam didn’t much care. He spent every hour at Five’s bedside.

Veronica had been in her lab for just as long, researching what Sigrid had done, how she had done it. Every day she sent more bad news, but didn’t bother to elaborate with placating niceties:

“Getting nowhere.” 

“There’s no precedent for this kind of injury.”

“Cerebral degeneration is likely.”

In other words, Five’s brain couldn’t possibly last much longer.

“There’s got to be some way to turn off this ‘mind controlled’ state,” Sam had demanded, “Shake her out of it like we did with Moonchild.”

“That’s the thing, Sam,” Veronica had responded. “She wasn’t _meant_ to come out of this. Ever.”

\---

It was early morning when Veronica showed up at his doorstep, like a ghost. A silhouette outlined in the doorway, a haunted wraith.

“I have something,” she said, but it wasn’t a celebration.

She had a few papers, laid them out over the nightstand, beside Five’s shaking body. In the dead of the night, she explained what it would take.

Through the complicated theories and indecipherable jargon, he understood this: Five’s mind wasn’t gone. It wasn’t destroyed. But Sigrid’s mind had force Five’s into dormancy. With Sigrid’s mind gone, her head was an empty throne room. Someone needed to go back in, to uncover Five’s consciousness and reseat it, plug it back into her body. 

“But this isn’t something that can be done by a series of tones, or some surgical operation. _Someone_ has to do it.”

“You want us to become another Sigrid,” Sam said, his voice laced with anger. “Take over her mind to forcefully heal her.”

Veronica stayed resolutely silent. He made the logical jump himself.

“Oh my God. You want _me_ to become another Sigrid.”

“It’s better you than anyone else.”

His gut reaction was immediate. “No.”

“Sam—”

“Veronica, I said no.”

“This isn’t an _option_ , Sam. This isn’t a _choice_. I could spend eighty more hours going through this, and I wouldn’t come up with anything less ugly.”

He couldn’t meet Veronica’s eyes. Ended up looking instead at Five’s waxy skin, the stillness it held.

Veronica’s voice was steel. “I know it’s unethical, but it’s unavoidable. It has to be you. I don’t think she would want anyone else in her mind.”

“But see that’s the thing! She shouldn’t have _anyone at all_ in her mind! So many people have taken advantage of her throughout her life, I can’t have one of those people be me.”

At his last words, there was a crash. 

Five had tensed up again, and knocked the nightstand over. A glass of water had shattered at their feet, and Five’s body rolled unconsciously toward it. 

“ _Shit,”_ Sam hissed, and grabbed at her. He worked to keep her arms down, stop her from harming herself. Cursed again as Five’s head snapped upward, neck muscle’s strained, under the barrage of another seizure. Pink bubbles frothed out of her lips. She must've bit her tongue again.

Veronica had had enough. “Sam, we don’t have time left! It’s not – I _know_ I’m not good with feelings, but it doesn’t matter how she feels about you, if it ends up killing her. You either do this and deal with the emotional consequences, or you retire her sneakers in the Forest of Fallen Runners.”

And God, she was right. There was no time left. Van Ark’s serum was doing its best, but it couldn’t heal a brain that wasn’t there. 

Sam would never loathe himself more than becoming another one of Five’s manipulators. But this would save her life. Even if she woke up hating him for the rest of his life, it’d be worth it.

She’d be alive.

He set his jaw, shoved his emotions behind him. “Fine. Set it up.”

…

There was no waiting period. Veronica already had the device powered up. They had brought Five into Veronica’s lab, placed her stiff body on one of the metal tables, like a corpse in a mortuary. A series of electrodes on Five’s head were placed, to monitor. A delicate metal circlet for him, to match his brainwaves with the ones Sigrid had used.

Only Janine and Maxine had joined them. It wasn’t discussed to wake up anyone else. For one delirious second, Sam thought to tell Janine to grab Chicken Nugget. Just in case. In case this didn’t work, Chicken Nugget might want to see her one last time, before…

The faces of the women in front of him were ashen, strained from sleeplessness. Maxine was still in her nightshirt, holding Five’s hand. Janine stood rigid a meter away, hiding her fear under her military training.

“Once I’m in,” he asked Veronica slowly, “How will I—what do I even do?”

“Your brain will create an environment that makes sense to you. Perhaps a map, where you have to pinpoint Five’s consciousness. Or an electrical cord, you have to plug it back in. Do whatever makes sense.”

“And what if she…?” his eyes strayed to the body on the table.

“It doesn’t matter what happens outside. Focus on her consciousness, and bring it up.”

And when she said it so simply, it seemed so easy. But his eyes refused to leave Five’s form, magnetized stupidly to the scars across her neck. 

He had a feeling regardless of how this went, he would never forgive himself.

He pushed the thought down. Took a deep breath.

“Alright. I'm ready.”

And the device buzzed on.


	8. Chapter 8

Veronica flipped the switch, and the headset buzzed on.

He flinched without meaning to, in anticipation of pain. But there was nothing. It was just him, in a different mind. His consciousness just kind of… clicking into place. 

He saw Five’s hand, willed it to raise. It wasn’t his body; he recognized the distinction between his own being and the being beside him. But it was like operating a car: turn the wheel, and suddenly Five was sitting up. 

He heard Maxine’s sharp inhale from two sets of ears; he saw Janine’s eyes flare from two sets of eyes. 

This is what it was like, to control another. This is what Sigrid saw. 

It was exhilarating. It was horrifying. 

He tried take a steadying breath, to orient himself in this new mind. Defined the lines between his essence and hers. And then he turned to look inward.

His brain sat at the top of Five’s mind; it offered no resistance. There was no pull of emotions, no spark of a struggle. Deep below him, though, like an echo at the bottom of a well, he could feel a tug. It was almost completely unnoticeable. He could go his whole life in this body without being bothered by it. But Sam knew what it was. 

In his mind’s eye, he saw it as an ocean of static. At the depths of it, under thousands of tons of pressure, Five’s soul sat. To get Five back on top, he’d have to dive into it and pull her up.

He took a deep breath, and plunged.

The instant he met the ocean, he was hit with pain. Static on all sides, a maddening buzz through all his senses. Flashes came to him. Bits of sounds, of words, of smells and sights. He was running through a field, a zombie behind him but a laugh on his lips. He was lifting an old woman from her bed to her wheelchair, seeking to give comfort in final days. 

In the next moment, he was cowering in a kitchen, hands thrown up in defence. He recognized the man in front of him as Michael, Five’s old boyfriend. He was shouting at Sam, cursing his name. From the way he approached him, Sam knew what happened next.

He forced past the memory, dug deeper. Each flicker was heavy and oppressive, static on all sides. 

The voice of Runner 8, jaded but confident, promising to come home. 

The smell of earth, as another runner was laid to rest. 

He heard his own voice in a memory, calling to raise the gates. 

The memories pressed heavier, got angrier. He was a ship in a storm, battered on all sides, no stars above to guide him.

Van Ark, glasses glinting, a syringe depressed, and a feeling like his chest was bubbling out of him.

Peter, flesh dripping from his limbs, cursed to live with his pain, his mistakes.

Emotions sideswiped him – pain, and love, and fear so hard it cut into his stomach. It wasn’t a fear of his own death. It was a fear of others’, of failing, watching his family decompose around him, and him left to wander alone. The fear that he might never get to join them in eternal rest.

He was so tired. He was so sad. He heard Archie’s voice, in pain and suffering, and it hurt, _God,_ did it hurt _._ Death was so heavy, so pressing, all-encompassing, the storm pressed in and drowned him, he didn’t think he could go on.

But then, he touched down on steadiness. A rock that would not budge. A refusal to break. The world was so cruel, it would beat her down and down but again and again Five refused to lash out in violence. She held fast to gentleness, gripping to the thought with hands that were bloody. The world would never get better and it would never end, but she would stay kind. She would not cause pain.

 _This_ is the Five he needed. Deep in the ocean, where the weight of the world and the pressure was at its most crushing point, he had found her core. 

_Five,_ he called. And he made contact, and _pulled._

Five’s soul rose like a flood of bubbles to the surface, and on its way passed through him. It felt like an eclipse, souls crossing through one another, and a rush of deep memories crashed through him, intense, heart-breaking, private:

Five’s parents, screaming and spitting, shattering glass as they split the home into two pieces. Michael, pressing into Five, the smell of booze on his breath and the fear that maybe she didn’t want this after all. A loaded gun at the edge of Abel’s fence, and a very distinct thought:

‘Maybe I should kill myself here.’

His soul recoiled violently, jerked back from the thought _hard_. The memories around him exploded, suddenly loud and incomprehensible. There was noise, a roar of static, he was rising too fast, like a diver risking the bends, and this wasn’t right, something had gone wrong, but when he opened his eyes again, he was back in his own body. The device on his head was now in his hands. The body on the bed was no longer in his head.

The connection was broken.

\---

Apparently, Five woke up a few hours later. Sam made sure not to be there when it happened. He placed himself as far away as possible, on the other side of Abel before she even began to wake. He knew when he broke away from her mind that she’d never forgive him. He’d seen too much. He knew too much. And when he disconnected, he had broken something.

He hadn’t known what it was, until Jody told him. Apparently, Five had sat up, opened her mouth, and breathed out nothing. She’d looked between Maxine and Janine, puzzled, her hands touching her lips. She couldn’t speak, it seemed. At all, this time.

Maxine diagnosed Five with Broca’s Aphasia. She could understand words, but couldn’t form them.

It could be worked on, worked against, Maxine told him. Some patients of stroke could lose their speech and recover it in weeks.

But Sam had been in present when it happened. He knew it wouldn’t recover.

Five had asked for Sam (through BSL) within minutes of waking. No one could tell her where he was. He knew that was a coward’s move. But he was hoping to build up some courage, before he had to see the betrayal on her face in first person.

Veronica took him aside just days after Five waking, a glint in her eyes. “We could cure her aphasia, Sam. It doesn’t have to be weeks. Just sixty seconds, and you could go in and—"

He had never shut her down faster.

Five couldn’t make jokes anymore, coo at baby Sarah, or call Chicken Nugget for his dinner. She couldn’t say his name anymore, in that teasing way that made him grin like a loony. But she seemed to be happy anyway. That’s what Peter said, at least. (He spent a lot more time with Peter now. They had a shared understanding of guilt, of self-loathing.)

Sam was fine with it. Five was back. She was in control of her own body, no Sigrid and no Moonchild. She was free and whole again and she was _here._ He didn’t care if she never spoke to him again.

He’d see her briefly, in passing, once she was cleared for runs. She tried to approach him many times, but he’d bolt before she could get them alone. He didn’t dare look her in the eyes. 

Of course, this meant they never discussed what he said that day in front of the tank. It didn’t matter, because after what he did, there was no way she felt the same way. It was enough that she knew. Every day she’d wake up as her own person, and she was healthy and whole, and she would run on missions and come home smiling. This was enough.

(He just... He wished.)

\---

Veronica hadn’t spoken to him for days. She was mad at him, and he allowed it. He hoped it would pass, because he certainly wasn’t going to change his mind.

But then one day Veronica called him to her lab. 

He was already suspicious when he stepped in. There was a modified headset in the middle of the room. No one else around.

“Veronica…”

“Just put it on. Please. It’s not—Not trying to fix anything.”

He was too tired to probe her about it. (He was too tired a lot recently, and sleep didn’t seem to help it.)

He put the headset on.

When a voice came on, like tuning into a radio frequency, he didn’t _hear it._ He just… knew it. It wasn’t sound waves, coming in through his ears and interpreted by his brain. It was thoughts. He knew them without sound, without vision.

_Hi Sam._

He blinked, and suddenly he was in a field. The sun glittered off the trees, grass felt soft beneath feet. He was running – or, no. _She_ was running. He was in the lab, but his mind was with Five, taking in crisp air, lungs powerful and happy with it. He felt relaxed in a way he had never felt before. Moving, jogging, heart steady, he was in motion but it felt invigorating. He had always seen this view through his cams, but he had never _experienced_ it. This was what it felt like to run as Five.

“Five?”

_No, this is your conscience. You should stop hoarding the Curly Wurlies._

A shocked laugh burst out of him. Five’s voice, Five’s humor, right here for him to enjoy, when he thought he’d never hear it again. God, he’d missed it. 

_I’m glad Veronica got it to work._

It was disorienting, his eyes were open and Veronica was right in front of him but if he stopped focusing, he was with her, on the trail, the sun warming their head.

“Five, how…?”

_I’m sorry I couldn’t be there with you right now. Veronica and I thought it would help me stay grounded to do this while running._

“Is this… Are you speaking?”

_No, Sam. This is my mind._

But this was nothing like last time he was in her mind. Five must’ve understood his confusion.

 _Last time, you saw me the way the Sigrid saw me._ This _is how Moonchild saw me._

A kernel of anxiety grew in him, thinking about what that meant. Five must’ve read his fear.

_Don’t worry. You can’t do anything. Can’t control any part of me. No one can anymore._

Five leapt over a creek, her feet sure and confident. She had gained back her fitness in no time.

_Veronica will destroy the device as soon as we are done here. She knows it’s for the best. But she let me do this, one last time._

“Do what?”

_Thank you. With more than just BSL._

The vision in his mind flickered, suddenly he was looking at himself. He was standing in front of himself, at the comms shack; and his self was smiling, he could feel the joy built up in his chest. In his hand was Five’s headset, and he realized – this was another memory, from Five’s perspective. 

It wasn’t anything like the jagged-edged memories he had seen during his rescue mission. This memory glowed like the first light of spring, warm and soft and joyful. The two of them were chatting about something silly, trying to contain their giggles. He didn’t know he sounded like that.

_Thank you for being there for me. Thank you for saving me. My brain is healed now, Veronica confirmed it. No tones can control me anymore. No voices in my head._

“You’re finally free,” he breathed.

_I am._

_Van Ark’s serum hasn’t changed. I’m immune, and I still can’t die, but…_

“Maybe we’ll find a way to reverse it.” It was a funny thing to say, in a world where escaping death was the dream. But Sam had read mythology, fables. He knew how lonely infinity could be.

_Maybe… but for now, my mission will be to make sure everyone else can live as well. For as long as they possibly can. For now, I’m just happy to be here with you._

Sam shook his head, though she couldn’t see it. “Five, I betrayed your trust. I did what Sigrid did, took over, and — and _saw_ things. Those were your memories to keep private, and I’m sorry. I understand if you…”

His vision flickered to a new memory now – darkness, fear throttling through him, zombies behind. 

_Sam, you’ve been my rock._

A red light shone in the distance at the top of a radio tower, a last hope, and in his ear, a voice calming him, calling him home. He remembered that night, too. Remembered rambling on in the silence, not knowing if the receiving end was alive and undead. He never knew what that night was like for Five until now.

_Every time I was lost, you called me back._

The memories flashed through him – The night she broke into Abel, under Moonchild. The day at the tank, standing next to Sigrid and watching Abel come into view. Every day, trusting Sam’s directions like instincts called a person home.

_These memories, you deserve to see._

Sam thought of the painful memory he had seen before, of the gun in Five’s hand, and the tantalizing thought of just letting go. He brought the memory to the forefront, showed it to her mind.

“Five, I know you’ve thought about… giving up. Please, you have to understand. I don’t care if you are technically immortal; you are too important to me for you to think those things.”

_…I’m sorry._

He tried to press his emotions into her, forgiving but begging that she work against it. “Maxine told me about this psychiatrist in New Canton. Would you try to visit him? Just once, that’s all I ask. And if you could… tell me, when you feel those thoughts. I want to be there for you when the world seems to heavy. I couldn’t image – I don’t know what I’d do if you – Because I…”

He stuttered over his words, suddenly embarrassed like he hadn’t been before. Because now she was so close. Her mind was pressed along his. All his thoughts, his memories, his emotions were laid out like a record, like damning evidence. What he felt for her, what she meant to him, it was all right there in front of them.

He took a deep breath, and asked the wordless question, the hope squeezing at his heart.

It was a radio transmission into the silence, a quiet voice in the dark. A vulnerable question, begging for response. 

Under the warmth of the sun, he felt her smile at it. Take the question like an offered hand, and rose to answer happily. 

_Yes,_ she said.

And

_I love you, too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks. Hope you enjoyed it :)


End file.
